


Unintentional Fatherhood

by awesomerosie



Category: Captain America (Movies), Iron Man (Movies), Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alzheimer's Disease, Dad Steve, Family Feels, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Howard Stark's A+ Parenting, Humor, Kid Tony, So many widgets, Steve tries really hard to understand the gadgets lying around the house, Underage Drinking, dangit I just read it why can't I figure out tags?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-13
Updated: 2019-06-13
Packaged: 2020-05-02 14:03:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,620
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19200355
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/awesomerosie/pseuds/awesomerosie
Summary: Imagine Steve didn't freeze. He discovers Howard has a son, and after a thorough introduction to their family life, ends up invading it a little bit. Will Steve's experience with Howard help build a connection with Tony? Or will it all collapse around him like a flan in a cupboard? Find out this time on...Captain AmeriDad!





	Unintentional Fatherhood

**Author's Note:**

> So, to start off, I forgot that Jarvis existed for the first half of writing this. Whoops. Sorry, Jarvis.
> 
> Secondly, I always picture Dominic Cooper's Howard Stark, because I mean...Dominic Cooper. But it mostly works with whichever iteration you know, so whatever.
> 
> Anyway, enjoy.

Steve didn't age as quickly anymore, that much was obvious. Two wars later, and all his friends had gray hairs and wrinkles, but Steve, nah, he looked exactly the same. That was the moment that Steve knew that one day, he was going to watch all his friends die.

But, Steve Rogers was not a dweller. He would not let this information bring him down. Instead, he would spend as much time making lasting memories with everyone as he possibly could. Which was how he discovered that Howard Stark had a son.

With the barest knowledge of Howard’s wife, Steve was not expecting a teenage Howard to answer their door, but there he was, looking all the world like his entire life had just ended in front of him. He had bags under his eyes, and even though it was nearing noon, his hair was ruffled as if he had just gotten out of bed.

Steve, out of polite habits, stuck his hand out, greeting the young man with a friendly, “Hello there, my name is Steve.”

The kid grunted, “Tony,” then pointed down the hallway and sped off in the opposite direction. An odd person, much like his father.

Steve wandered down the way Tony had gestured, careful not to snoop too much into anything on his way by. Howard may have invited him into his home, but he had not invited Steve into his personal things; Howard had only asked him over out of necessity, after all, it would be rude to break his trust like that.

Down the hall, into a kitchen fashioned with all the latest gadgets, and through another door, he finally found Howard. Steve could only assume this room used to be the garage but was evidently overtaken by Howards need for a workshop. On every flat surface was some sort of gizmo, the likes of which Steve had never seen before.

After a moment of waiting for Howard to notice him, Steve cleared his throat. Howard nearly jumped out of his skin, far too engrossed in his work to notice anything happening around him. He whirled around, a look of terror draining out of his face. “Steve! God, warn people when you sneak up on them!”

“That kinda defeats the purpose of sneaking,” Steve chuckled, stepping closer to inspect whatever he was working on.

“How did you even get in here? I thought the door was locked.” Howard muttered, squirreling away whatever it was he was working on, though he really didn’t have to, even with a clear view Steve had no idea what it was supposed to do.

“Tony let me in.”

“Tony?” Howard mumbled, looking a bit lost. His eyebrows furrowed together, forming wrinkles in his forehead. “Tony...Tony...Oh! Anthony, yes, right.”

Alright, that was odd. Did Howard forget about his son or was his obvious sleep deprivation taking a toll on his brain? Perhaps Steve should convince him to rest.

Howard yawned, lifted his empty mug, and heaved a sigh. He then turned back to Steve, muttering, “Why are you here again? Oh, the shield thing, right.”

\---

As the months went on, Steve ran into Tony more and more often, and it became apparent that Howard was not giving him the attention he needed, or rather deserved. Far too often Tony would come into the workshop with something he made and tried to show it to Howard, but Howard being the stubborn, dickish person he had become, did nothing but chide Tony for interrupting. Poor Tony would shuffle back out looking crestfallen.

Steve couldn’t watch this sham of a family any longer. He did the only thing he could think of and knocked on Tony’s bedroom door. It crept open, revealing half of Tony’s weary face staring back at him.

“What do you want, old man?”

Steve was taken aback by the hostility in the young man’s voice, but he trudged on. “I wanted to see your invention.”

Tony’s eyebrows scrunched much the same way Howard’s did when he was suspicious. “Why?”

The amount of skepticism coming from a child of less than fifteen surprised Steve down to the core. It made him wonder if Tony ever had a childhood or if he had come out of the womb as cynical as his father.

“I didn’t get a good look when you came in,” Steve said. “What does it do?”

Tony seemed to consider his options for a moment, staring into Steve’s eyes like he could gaze into his soul. Eventually, he disappeared from view, leaving the door cracked open and Steve stepped inside.

Howard’s shop and Tony’s bedroom were similar in nature. Far too many bits and bobs sat strewn about, littering every surface. The only differences were the bed and a small bookshelf of comics in the corner.

Tony plopped down on the floor over by a small helicopter and tugged a large scrap of metal into his lap. He messed with toggles and whatnot on the board and the helicopter hovered into the air with a cord connecting the two.

Steve slowly lowered himself to the floor nearby, carefully staying away from sharp propellers. He didn’t completely understand the significance of said helicopter, but it was incredible to see one so small.

“It’s wonderful, Tony.”

The helicopter jerked and spun out, crashing into one of the workbenches, breaking into pieces on impact. Steve turned to Tony confused, but the shock and tear-filled eyes told him everything. Tony had never been complimented before, had he?

Steve wanted to hold him like his mother had always done, but didn’t know how to initiate that without scaring Tony further. Steve’s hand reached out and rested gently on Tony’s shoulder. Tony tensed at first, jerking his face away, but let it happen. Steve couldn’t discern the expression, but Tony was definitely conflicted.

How much had this precious child already been through? How much more would he have to endure before this was all over? Steve wasn’t entirely sure he wanted the answers.

Tony shifted and stood, turning his face away and wiping the back of a hand under his nose. He went over to the broken helicopter and started picking up the pieces, reassembling them the best he could.

Steve could tell when he was being shut out. “Thank you for showing me,” he said, making his way to the door. “I have to have a chat with Howard.”

Tony didn’t look up as Steve left, his face dutifully remaining as far away from Steve as he could get it. That was okay though, Steve hated crying in front of people too.

Steve went back to Howard's workshop, all the rage he felt on Tony's behalf swelling to the surface. He knew as a rational adult that any conversation that happened right now would be nowhere near productive, but he also knew as someone who grew up without a father, that this whole situation was beyond unfair to Tony.

“Howard,” Steve began, trying to keep the anger out of his voice, “have you spoken to Tony recently?”

The bags under Howard's eyes had only gotten worse since that first visit. His hair was grey and his face more sunken than it should be for a middle-aged man. His eyes glazed over, the cogs in his brain slowing even as he tried to speed them up. “I...don't know. I’ve been busy.”

“Yeah? What’s so important that you’re ignoring your own son?!” Steve tried, but the pot of anger boiled over and he didn’t have a chance to stop it. “He needs you more than your stupid gadgets!”

“Early-onset Alzheimer's disease,” Howard’s voice wavered as he spoke. Steve froze. “Maria was diagnosed a few years back.” He scrubbed a hand over his eyes and cleared his throat. “I’ve been working on a cure, but it’s going nowhere. I can’t get her memories back.”

Fantastic, Steve made both Stark men cry all in the same day. “I’m sorry, Howard, I didn’t know.”

“No, it’s fine. How would you?” Howard took a deep breath, composing himself and dragging a hand through his hair. “I’ll talk to him. There’s nothing left for me to do here anyway.”

Steve stopped him before he left, giving him a warm smile. “Perhaps you should bathe first?”

Howard sniffed offendedly, nose scrunching up in disgust as he got a whiff of himself. “That may be a good idea.”

\---

Maria’s mind dwindled, but Howard refused to put her in a care facility. With Howard preoccupied trying to “fix her,” the task of taking care of her fell mostly on Tony’s shoulders. Steve took pity on the poor kid and not so subtly shoved his way into the Stark’s lives.

Howard spent more time in the workshop and Tony spent far too much time in his room. The similarities between them would be cute if they weren’t so destructive. Every evening Steve made dinner and had to coax them both from opposite sides of the house.

Occasionally, Tony would spend an hour in the living room with Steve. A few times, he sat close enough to touch, always hesitantly and never more than a brush of knees or elbows.

The first day Maria didn’t recognize Tony was also the first day that he properly hugged Steve. Tony didn’t cry. He refused. Steve wrapped his arm around him and they sat pressed together for the entire episode of The Tonight Show. When it ended, Tony got ready for bed, for once following Steve’s midnight bedtime rule.

\---

Steve moved into one of the various unused guest rooms. Howard approved it, not that he was really in any sort of mental state to approve anything.

Howard’s mind was going too. The madness of not knowing what to do was eating away at him. Nearly everything was a battle between him and Steve. He barely ate, almost slept, and refused to see his wife until he found a cure.

Tony shut down. He didn’t speak unless it was absolutely necessary. He skipped school more often than he went. The worst part was that Steve couldn't do anything about it. He wasn’t Tony’s parent, nor was he a legal guardian, nor did he have any bribery power. The best he could do was plead and hope.

The worst day was when the school principal called the house and told Steve that Tony didn’t show up. Steve waited for him to come home like he usually did. And then he waited some more. And then at midnight when he was sure that Tony wasn’t coming back Steve started to panic.

“Howard, Tony’s not home yet,” Steve called, walking into the workshop. He stopped and sighed at the image of Howard slumped over a desk. This wasn’t the first time Howard had drunk himself stupid and it would not be the last.

Steve grabbed his jacket on the way out the front door. It was on him to find Tony.

\---

Steve spent hours searching. He had no idea where Tony would go for this long. None of the shops were open, he wasn’t old enough for the bars, and as far as Steve knew, Tony didn’t have any close friends, so where would he go?

A cold wind whipped at Steve's face as he sped through the streets of New York. He did a thorough sweep of the whole city, but nowhere did he spot even a glimpse of Tony.

The problem he ran into on his way to check the house again, was the pair of feet dangling from a bridge up ahead. Captain America would never turn down the opportunity to help someone in need, but Steve Rogers was tempted to leave them be. The thing that stopped him was the morbid thought that Tony could already be dead and if he didn't try to help whoever this was then he would have the guilt of two lives on his hands.

Steve turned toward the bridge. He was glad he did when he got there and spotted that familiar rat’s nest atop the dangling pair of legs. He had found Tony, that was all that mattered in that moment.

Steve didn't speak. He yanked Tony off the ledge and crushed him in an embrace too long overdue. Tony's chest shook, not with grief, but with mirth. He was laughing and Steve had no idea why. Tony smelled faintly of alcohol and something earthy he hadn't smelled before, and Steve wondered if that were the reason.

“Don't you  _ ever  _ run off like that again!”

“Chill out, Dad, I'm fine.” If Tony meant it sarcastically he was doing a poor job of projecting that. His sentence sounded almost affectionate, nothing like what Steve usually got out of him.

Steve pulled back, holding Tony by the shoulders as the teen struggled to stay upright. “Never again, you hear me? I want you back home and in bed by midnight every night until you're thirty, got it?”

“What? Steve, dude, I can't do that! I just made friends!” Tony staggered back, tripping on his own feet.

Steve grabbed Tony's wrist just as he tipped over the edge. He whirled them around ignoring the sickened look on Tony's face. “If these friends encourage you to get drunk and disrespect your elders then they aren't very good friends.”

Tony rolled his eyes but nodded anyway. Steve dragged him home and shoved him unceremoniously into bed. Steve also moved into the bedroom right next to Tony's so he could hear everyone that came in and out, just in case.

\---

Tony didn't talk to Steve for a while after that. Their relationship returned to what it had been before Steve moved in. It hurt, but it was for Tony's own good that he have a stricter influence in his life.

Steve asked Howard about it on one of his more lucid days and he said Tony was acting out because he was bored. That and the poster Steve saw at the shops sprung an idea into his head.

Steve slapped the poster down onto the table one morning, startling Tony out of his half-dazed state of wakefulness. “I've found the solution to your boredom.”

Tony glanced at it, grimacing as he asked, “A science fair, really? Am I a child?”

“At times, yes.” Tony's eyes rolled, which Steve expertly ignored. “There are big names coming to judge this thing, looking to pick up a few choice geniuses. We both know you'll win, so why not give it a try?”

Tony glared, fluffed bedhead not doing anything to help him look menacing. “I’ll do it if you let me stay out on weekends.”

“With those menaces? Not a chance.”

“Then I'm not going.”

Steve stared incredulously at Tony's folded arms and sighed, letting his stomach flip uncomfortably as he relented. “Fine, but Friday and Saturday only. And you have to keep going to school.”

A grin weaseled its way onto Tony's face. “Deal.” He stuck his hand out over the table and Steve took it hesitantly, already regretting this decision.

\---

Tony entered a widget that Steve was positive he sat on at least a dozen times. He didn't explain to Steve what it did, saying, “You wouldn't understand it even if I tried,” which was highly uncalled for. Steve understood many things, just not usually ones with that many wires.

The whatchamacallit won like they both expected, and that was when the head of M.I.T. came over to them. They offered Tony a full ride scholarship as soon as he passed high school.

Tony turned down the scholarship, much to the surprise of everyone in attendance. “It's not that I don't want it, but I have the money. You should give it to someone who needs it.” Steve's heart swelled with pride hearing him say that.

Steve expected to celebrate when they got home, but just as he hung up his jacket, Tony was nearly back out the door. Steve's hand shot out, stopping Tony with a palm to the chest. “Where do you think you're going?”

“It's Saturday. You promised.”

Steve's heart dropped, but he nodded. He couldn't break a promise. “At least tell me where you're going?”

“Charles's,” Tony replied as if that was enough of an answer.

“Yeah?” Steve challenged, “and where does Charles live?”

“Upstate. Look, there's a party happening and I would like to get there before it's over, y'know? So, if I could just…” Tony trailed off, pointing at the door.

Steve released him reluctantly. “No booze and don't forget to come home.”

Tony gave a mock salute and charged out of the house, leaving Steve alone once again.

\---

Steve was a bit glad that he hadn’t had his own children, though he suspected that any spawn of his own would be much easier to handle. Tony, teenage genius that he was, could not follow orders even if he were trying to defuse a bomb strapped to his chest.

Tony came back drunk Sunday night, and from the smell of him, Steve was surprised he even made it home. Steve had just gotten Maria into bed when Tony stumbled through the front door. Steve rushed out to him as a lamp crashed to the floor.

“Whoopsie,” Tony giggled, staring at the mess.

Steve crossed his arms, disappointed Captain America face in full force. “Anthony Edward Stark, are you drunk?”

“Neowpe,” Tony’s words slurred and he giggled harder, “I’m compwetely swober.”

“Right, that’s why I smell…” Steve sniffed. “Scotch and beer on your breath.”

“Whoa,” Tony gasped, eyes glittering with wonderment, “you c’n smell tha’?”

“I said no booze, Tony.”

“C'mon, we were celebratin’!”

“That doesn't take away from the fact that you disobeyed my orders.”

“I's not tha’ big a deal, Steve.”

“It is a big deal because you never listen to anything anyone says!” Steve's heart stuttered, his own raised voice scaring him.

Tony's eyes widened in shock, his alcohol-muddled brain struggling to understand the rage coursing through Steve in that moment. “You're not my dad.” 

Steve knew that. It was something he had accepted long ago, but it still hurt like hell to hear.

“You are  _ not  _ my  _ dad _ , Steve,” Tony said it with more conviction, his lithe body tensing with unspoken anger. He started off toward his bedroom, a look of utter devastation capturing his features.

“Get back here, I'm not done scolding you!”

“Leave me alone!” Tony shouted, slamming the door behind him.

Steve heaved a sigh and spun around looking on in horror at the exasperated face of Howard Stark.

“He got it from me,” Howard said sadly. “I tried disciplining him, but I never knew how. He never comes out of his room and I tried taking his toys away, but he just made new ones.”

The anger faded slowly, still simmering beneath Steve's skin, but directed more toward himself now. He should not have yelled, it was completely uncalled for. “He needs attention, not discipline.”

Howard seemed perplexed by the mere idea that his son might want to spend time with him. How could he be so pigheaded about everything?

“Tony wants you to see him, Howard. He needs his father to acknowledge his accomplishments.” Steve could already see the walls being built up in Howard's mind, had seen it happen more often than he thought possible.

Howard didn't respond, too far into his own head to comprehend basic human interaction. He turned, wandering back in the direction he came.

Steve felt more alone then he had ever been before.

\---

Some days Steve felt like the only person in the Stark house who liked his presence was Maria. She never remembered who he was, but it was always nice to sit with her and have a chat about old times when his life wasn't marred by fancy gadgets and insufferable children.

Occasionally, as they spoke her memory would give out and he would have to start all over again, switching the topic to a book he read or a musician she liked. It was nice. They enjoyed each other's company even if one of them forgot about the whole thing a few minutes later.

Steve spent more time in the garden with Maria and her fragile memory than he spent with Howard and Tony combined. Even if he wanted to change that, how do you get someone as stubborn as them to do anything? He could use brute force, but he didn't want to accidentally hurt them. Besides, it wouldn't do any good because they wouldn't talk to him anyhow.

He could starve them out. Make the house smell good and then refuse to give them any until they came out of their own accord. It seemed wrong using food - a necessity - to get them out of their shells, but a man's gotta do what a man's gotta do.

And that is exactly what Steve did. While he felt much like a housewife in Maria’s flowery apron, he crafted the most complicated and delicious smelling Thanksgiving meal he could replicate. The turkey sat overnight in the oven; one of the few appliances Steve knew how to work properly. He peeled, boiled, and mashed potatoes. Green beans got covered in sauce and stuck in the oven next to the turkey.

The pie was a test of his skills. Steve didn't realise how much hard work and calculation went into making pie crust. He walked away from this project with greater respect for the mothers of the world.

Steve took everything out of the oven, served it, set the table, and got Maria situated, and instantly worried that it hadn’t worked. It took a while, but slowly, Howard crept out of the garage and Tony from down the hall. Tony avoided both of their eyes, choosing to sit down and dig in. Steve let it slide and gestured for Howard to join them.

Dinner was mostly silent, only Steve and Maria chatting quietly, but the tension in the air could be cut with a butter knife. Howard refused to look at Maria. Tony kept his head down. Steve wanted to smash both of their heads together. In other words, it was a lovely evening together.

Tony tried to get up and leave when he finished, but Steve grabbed him by the wrist. “Wait,” Steve said, staring Tony down. “We need to talk.”

“I’m good, thanks.”

“Sit,” Howard muttered. “He’ll make this happen one way or another.”

Tony sighed and plopped back into his chair, yanking his wrist out of Steve's grip so he could cross his arms in indignation.

“Alright,” Steve said, trying to keep the exhaustion out of his voice, “now that we're on the same page, you two need to talk.” Howard and Tony both stared at the table in silence. “Fine, I'll suggest a topic then. Howard, Tony's been accepted to M.I.T. and he'll be starting in the fall.”

Tony glared at Steve, face tinting red with embarrassment

Howard’s eyebrows furrowed. “Why would he go there?” He didn’t look at Tony, but Steve saw all the light drain from Tony’s eyes. “He shouldn’t need someone to tell him what to do.”

Tony looked defeated and Steve really wanted to smash the gravy boat into Howard’s face. Tony got away this time. He dashed down the hall before anyone could stop him. Steve didn’t bother trying because they both knew who the problem was here.

Howard eyed him wearily. They had worked together long enough for him to recognize Steve’s disappointed face. “What? What did you want me to do, Steve?”

“I was hoping you would care at least a little bit about your son's accomplishments.”

“I do care,” Howard insisted unconvincingly. “I care that he relies so heavily on the acceptance of other people. He would go farther if he kept  _ himself  _ going.”

Howard and Tony had many physical similarities, anyone could clearly see that, but once you got to know them both, you discovered that the way they function was completely different.

“You may not need people, but some of us do,” Steve muttered, scooting away from the table. He stood and helped Maria up. “Tony’s going to M.I.T. If you won’t sign the papers, then I will.”

“Fine, be complicit in his dependence!” Howard shouted as Steve and Maria walked away. “See if I care!”

Steve hadn’t seen Howard care since he got here. Life wouldn’t change.

\---

Steve went to Tony’s room later that night and knocked on the door. Silence turned into a groan, turned into Tony yelling, “Go away!”

“Are you okay?”

The response Steve expected was more along the lines of Tony's first sentiment. The one he got was a muffled, “No. Why does he have to be such a dick all the time?”

The sigh came out of Steve's mouth before he even realised how truly fed up he was with Howard. “I don't know, Tony,” he said, leaning on the opposite wall, too tired and frustrated to hold himself up. He could draw the woodgrain of Tony's door from memory at this point.

The door creaked open a tiny bit, Tony's face peeking through the gap. His expression was unreadable, more empty than angry, but several layers sat beneath. Steve raised an arm, unmoving from the wall in an act of nonchalance toward the invitation. Tony hesitated, another feeling flitting behind his eyes before he crept out and wrapped his arms around Steve's middle. Tony melted into Steve as soon as their chests touched, the weight of the world dropping off his shoulders as he let himself be. It only lasted a moment, just long enough for Steve to smell Tony's shampoo, but not long enough for their body heat to seep through their clothes.

Steve missed the touch as soon as Tony let go. He wouldn't push it; getting this far was hard enough, he didn't need a setback. The nurturer inside him longed for the feeling of a warm body near him, ached for the smile he knew Tony could produce. It was torture living in this house.

Tony's body eased a fraction. His mind swirled behind his eyes, switching between thoughts and emotions right in front of Steve. He backed away and shut himself in his room again, leaving it unlocked. It was not an invitation; Steve had made that mistake before and gotten two weeks of silence for it. No, this was Tony's way of saying he was okay. If, and only if, there was an emergency Steve was allowed inside.

The night could have gone better.

\---

Steve's attempts at fixing Howard and Tony's relationship went so horribly wrong that it ended up dragging them further apart. If Howard was already at the table, Tony refused to come to dinner. If Steve even mentioned Howard’s name, Tony would close himself off and lock his bedroom door.

Despite his best efforts, there was no way Steve could repair their relationship. Steve made peace with this fact. It rang in his head any time he got a crazy idea for bringing them together, reminding him that he was useless in this regard and doing more harm than good whenever he tried.

After a while, Steve stopped trying. He spent his days training new recruits and his nights alone in a house of four. Somehow he was more lonely now than when he was living alone.

The few interactions he managed with Tony were the only thing that gave him joy. A small smile when Steve finally landed a joke, or a bump of shoulders by the stove, any indication that Tony appreciated his presence was enough to keep Steve's spirits up. He spent weeks in Nazi Germany with a few men and the clothes on his back, he could survive this.

Life only got harder the closer they got to Tony's first day at M.I.T. They got the papers signed with a few weird looks and a little bit of sweet talking, and then it was down to packing up his stuff. The dormitories had most of the things Tony would need to survive, it was just a matter of what he needed to live. Tony refused Steve's offer to help, choosing to do everything himself. But when Tony walked out of the house on moving day with a single rucksack, Steve's jaw dropped to the floor.

“That's it?” Steve asked flabbergasted. Didn't he need bedsheets, clothes, and bathing supplies? How in the world did he fit all that into one bag?

“Yup,” Tony muttered, dropping into the passenger seat of Steve's Camaro. He shoved the rucksack down onto the bench seat, somewhat ineffectively building a wall between them.

“Are you sure? I made up a list of what you'd need. You could take a look at it, see if you're missing someth-”

“Just drive, Steve. I'll buy new stuff if I need it.”

The car rolled forward, but Steve couldn't just let that one go. “That is incredibly wasteful, you know. If everyone bought new things anytime we get bored with it we would all be living in a trash heap.”

“Or,” Tony countered, sounding bored and as condescending as ever, “I'm actually helping by gently using things and selling them off to people who can't afford brand new stuff.” And if that wasn't embarrassing enough, Tony turned the radio on like he knew Steve didn't have a retort.

\---

Several hours of driving, and far too many bouts of bickering later they finally made it to M.I.T. The car rolled up in front and Tony left with a half-assed, “See ya.” That was it. No proper goodbyes, no thought for how this might make Steve feel, just a quick wave, the slam of a door, and he was gone.

The car behind him honked, breaking Steve of the stupor rendering him incapacitated. He pulled away with an actual brick on his mind, weighing him down and ruining his posture.

Steve drove back to New York with a single question playing on repeat in his head: “Did he really mean so little to Tony?”

\---

Steve spent days on end in a sort of blank space. He went from work to the Stark mansion and back to work all the while wondering where he went wrong. Had he been too harsh with Tony? Should he have forced him out of his room more? And lastly, did Tony care about him at all?

Why did it matter if Tony did care? It wouldn't make them anymore related. The simple fact of being cared for, of being liked by a single human being shouldn't hold so much power over Steve's well-being. But that was just the thing, Steve had gotten everything he had ever wanted...except for a family. That was the last thing on his bucket list, one of epic proportions since he became near invincible, and yet it was the least likely to actually happen.

Steve took the first mission the United States’ government offered.

\---

Even in a third world country, doing God knows what for the benefit of the USA, Steve couldn't stop thinking about Tony. Steve was not a dweller. He prided himself on that fact. This obsessive behavior was so unlike him, but he just couldn’t rid himself of the worry.

Even as he charged into an underground military base his mind was thousands of miles away. Steve punched a man in the face and his heart ached for Tony to do the same to him, at least then he would know where they stood.

The mission went down without a hitch despite Steve’s wandering mind. He found the intel he needed and made it out intact, and still, he had an empty hole in his chest.

\---

Steve came back to a quiet house. It felt like walking into a spider web. The air was sticky and thick, dragging him down as he strolled through the too-large mansion. Every step felt like swimming through mud, sucking him into a pit of darkness and despair.

A light in the kitchen caught his eye, and Steve trudged over to turn it off. He froze in the doorway, staring at the young man sitting at the table behind a mound of books and a pile of metal. The young man that Steve hadn’t expected back for several more months.

Tony’s head picked up slowly, brows furrowing at him. “What’s got you down, Captain Perky?”

Steve took a step in, unable to truly comprehend what he was seeing. “You’re home?”

“Yeah. Is that a bad thing?”

“No,” Steve said almost too quickly. “No, of course not, it’s your house. I just wasn’t expecting you until...Christmas.”

“And miss Thanksgiving made by my favorite uncle?” Tony gasped, slapping a hand to his chest. “I could never!”

And somehow, against all odds and with an understanding Steve couldn’t comprehend, Steve’s darkness disappeared. A smile spread across his face, his whole demeanor changing to match Tony’s little chuckle. “I guess I should...uh, go to the store, huh?”

“It can wait,” Tony said. He waved Steve over. “Come take a look at this project I’m working on.”

That single invitation was enough to quell all the pain and confusion from Steve’s heart. It didn’t matter that they weren’t related, or that they fought, all that mattered was that they  _ wanted  _ to be here. They both found comfort in being together, and that was all Steve needed.

So, Steve sat down and listened to Tony yammer on about electrical signals and moving parts. And he would continue to do so until Tony decided to stop sharing his inventions with him - if and when that ever happened - and Steve would enjoy it. Because that’s what family did:  _ listen _ .

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading!
> 
> I finished this at 6 in the dang morning and I am _Not_ a morning person, so let me know if things don't make sense.
> 
> Feel free to follow me at [RosieWritesRidiculousShit](https://rosiewritesridiculousshit.tumblr.com//) or my personal shit-posting account [RainbowsPoopingUnicorns](https://rosiewritesridiculousshit.tumblr.com//)


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